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Update and Aging Joints and a Trip to Capitola

I haven't journaled for a long time. My usual first 2 weeks of the month work load and tennis! Tennis is good! Very good! Until my left knee acted up. I'm limping around feeling sorry for myself. I went to see an orthopedist friend knowing that I had an old minor injury and expecting that now was the time for a meniscus repair. The bad news from the MRI is that there is more arthritis in the knee and that a clear tear apparently wasn't visible. So the orthopedist's advice is to let the knee cool down without tennis and then try again to play. If the effusion recurs, and I'm sure it will, do an arthroscopic exam and repair a tear, if its there, and it doesn't seem to be, and look at the articular surfaces and determine just how much arthritis there is. I can't take NSAID's or aspirin because of asthma, but I can put cold packs on the knee, and that has helped. I'm walking around from clinic to clinic and crawling in and out of my car. And, obviously, feeling sorry for myself. My tennis career, as a septuagenarian, over almost before it begins. My dreams of winning an over 80 tennis tournament, and starting a serious training program, all in abeyance. I'm laughing! But tennis has always meant a lot to me, and I'd gladly go through surgery to get back on the court. Nevertheless, I can walk, slowly, and the prospects are that I'll be walking faster as the swelling subsides. So on a scale of seriousness, this is a mosquito bite, and I vow to stop complaining, look around at real problems, life threatening problems and keep in mind how lucky I really am! Journaled self pity, though terribly human, isn't terribly interesting or noteworthy.

Tonight, my second son, Geoff, and I go to the Angels vs Mariners game in Anaheim. This is our annual birthday celebration, and I will wear my Ichiro Suzuki Mariner's jersey. Ichiro is about the only reason I can take baseball, as he is a joy to watch, hitting or fielding. Baseball, to me, is agonizingly slow compared to football, basketball and tennis. A routine game is really slow, but Geoff and I will have a chance to chat which we seldom do because of the directions our lives have taken. He lives about 40 miles away and has a lovely wife, Jeanie, and two beautiful children, Jake and Jessica. He is a deputy district attorney in Los Angeles County, as is his oldest brother, John, who lives a mile and a half away from Geoff. They are 13 months apart in age, and each has a son and daughter. They were raised by my first wife, Sally, largely in Seattle, and that's where their preference for the Mariners began. I go way back to the Chicago Cubs, Phil Cavaretta, Stan Hack and Bill Nicholson, at Wrigley Field. When tennis came along, baseball fled. Geoff played tennis in high school and I can still remember the first time he beat me and I gave him my old letterman's sweater, which he gave back to me, and which I wore to an alumni reunion, but that's another story.

Very early tomorrow morning, we'll get into the Porsche and drive to Capitola which is near Santa Cruz. This is about 375 miles and 6 hours via Mapquest, and we'll be traveling with our mobile GPS and stopping at th4e wonderful Harris Ranch in Coalinga, about half way, for a great breakfast. Our very good friends, Dave and Diana Margileth have invited us to the wedding of their son, Jeff, to a young lady. Jeff has been an Iron Man Triathlete, and Dave isw my old tennis buddy, and an outstanding oncologist. Diana is a realtor who helped us find our last 2 homes. She is so special, and beautiful. We're in for a great time. The rehearsal dinner is Friday night and the wedding on Saturday. We'll stay until Sunday morning and then drive to Corte Madera and visit daughter, Becky, Peter, and Haley and Zachary. Haley is just starting tennis. Her dad, Peter, is a very good golfer. We won't be playing tennis this time, but I can, standing still, hit balls to her! That will always be possible.